


Missing Piece

by DustySoul



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Deaf Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Disabled Character, F/M, Other, Polyamory, perceived character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2203842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustySoul/pseuds/DustySoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The helicarrier is grounded, most of Manhattan is in ruin, and Phil Coulson is dead. Some how that last part is what hurt the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing Piece

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-ed.

I.

Natasha runs her fingers through Clint’s hair. Her breath ghosts across his ear. He can feel her humming. It’s slow and smooth. A lullaby, maybe. A singular monotone he could get lost in.

Clint has to force each breath in and out, can feel his heart hammering in his chest. Everytime he closes his eyes, blue creeps him around the black and Loki’s voice echoes in his head when all should be silent. “Good job, Hawkeye.” in a mockery of how Coulson said it.

Coulson.

Phil.

 

II.

They’re curled up in another brand name, no smoking hotel room that smells like mildew and cheap cigarettes. Maybe they’re in the Adirondack, maybe Maine, maybe Canada. Clint has no clue how many days it’s been since they left Manhattan, no idea how many miles he's driven or what way he went or if he’s circled back on himself.

For once it’s not Loki, not memories from Afghanistan, or even Budapest that’s haunting him.

Nat’s humming harmonizes with the empty ache inside of him. God it hurts. He hurts, all over. Like every sorry heart beat is pumping poison into his system. His eyes burn and he doesn’t bother blinking, lets his vision of the dark meaningless room blur.

Natasha taps his arm, her humming turns into bursts of insistent vibrations. He imagines her concerned voice whispering his name, turns around in the circle of her arms and has to fight the urge to bury his face in her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” She says.

“I don’t know.” He admits, his throat feels dry and raspy and he coughs.

She pulls him close. It doesn’t help. There might as well be miles and miles between them. She might as well be on the helicarrier. He might as well be six feet under. Killed by another Agent while compromised. How gloriously ironic. He trembles. Some how this is worse. Worse than everything.

 

III.

Stark starts to pester them to return, move into his mostly rebuilt, newly renamed Avenger’s Tower. Clint’s phone turns the voice mails into a transcription riddled with errors because the man’s rapid, deadpan monotone was too much for the AI to make out.

Natasha calls back to tell him they’ll be there. _We’ll need to get you knew hearing aids_. She signs.

Clint makes an absent kind of knocking motion with his fist, wrist lose, moving his arm unnecessarily. _Yeah_. It’s disgruntled, non committal. _Should we tell them?_

_Your call._

_And about us?_

Natasha looks away. _I don’t feel the need to, you know?_

This time he smiles, _I know, I'm sure they'll figure it out_. While wondering how much longer their "us" will hold up. 

 

IV.

The invasion of New York hangs in the air between them, heavier than usual. It’s Natasha who’s unsettled. Clint's better than he's been in a long time, seeing only the tomorrow's drive back to the city spread out before him. There's still an acheing inside him, but he's growing used to that.

Natasha stares at the door as they lie in bed. Her humming keeps fading out into a stiff stillness.

He doesn't really know what to do. It used to come instinctually, with confidence. Now he has to pluck up the courage to turn and face her, “What’s up?”

She doesn’t focus on him, says, “I think I loved him.”

He doesn't have to ask if she means Coulson. Instead he says, “Me, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I still have plans to take this concept and make a long, epic story out of it. In fact I have the plot outlined. I just can't do much more with the style I've got going. So know, more is coming, it's just going to be it's own piece.
> 
> \--  
> Feel free to message or follow me on tumblr at dusty-soul.tumblr.com


End file.
